


Pure Gold

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: fanfic100, Community: mcsheplets, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e17 Letters From Pegasus, Episode: s05e11 The Lost Tribe, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever he wanted to relax and unwind, John replayed Rodney's Leadership video. It was pure gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pure Gold

**Author's Note:**

> For LJ comms:  
>  **McSheplets** Prompt 040 Season 1 and **fanfic100** Prompt 035 Sixth Sense

John grinned as he watched the _pure gold_ that Ford had passed on to him in that first year. He'd never really noticed how cute McKay was when he was spaced out at the early stages of exhaustion. Later, it hadn't been so funny, watching McKay snap around like a zombie on crack. He grimaced as that was a really good description of the exhausted man; high on uppers supplied by Carson during those final hours before the Wraith attacked. Yet John would take a McKay flying high on stimulants over a normal Kavanagh any day of the week.

They'd lost some good people before fooling the Wraith into believing the city had been destroyed.

Years later, he still sought out that pure gold whenever he wanted to unwind after a particularly stressful event, and today was no exception. Not only had he almost lost Rodney, but he would have had to explain to General O'Neill how he managed to lose Jackson as well. It didn't matter that he'd been powerless to stop the rogue Asgard from abducting both scientists. He shuddered; the sight of them dragging Rodney's unconscious form from Janus's secret laboratory would haunt him for some time to come.

Rodney was safely back on Atlantis now along with Jackson, and O'Neill had given John one of his backhanded compliments about not firing John after all, that translated to _good job_. Though why O'Neill was at Cheyenne Mountain when the communication went through, instead of in Washington, should have been a mystery; except John had a feeling that there was more than simple friendship between O'Neill and Jackson, more than teammates looking out for one another. It took his thoughts back to before the expedition left for Atlantis and, in particular, O'Neill's refusal to let Jackson join the expedition no matter how much Jackson cajoled and whined about it over the weeks it took to make the final preparations. Perhaps if O'Neill had been free to lead the expedition to Pegasus then Jackson would not have needed to ask permission. Perhaps then, Sumner wouldn't be dead and the Wraith might still be hibernating. Or maybe, as Rodney stated after the _Rod_ incident, maybe it would have turned out far worse because John might have been forced to put a bullet through O'Neill; a commanding officer he actually liked and respected.

John didn't bother to mention that if O'Neill had led the expedition then his chief scientist would have been Carter, and not Rodney. It boggled his mind to think that in some universes there were John Sheppards who had never found a best friend in a snarky, arrogant, pissy astrophysicist.

"...Only saw the first half of _The Sixth Sense_. Always wondered how that ended."

"More than I've seen, buddy," he murmured back to the over-tired, scared yet almost fatalistic face on his laptop screen.

John frowned, wondering if Rodney had ever sated that curiosity. The thought plagued him as he half-listened to Rodney's next unknowingly humorous batch of views on leadership until, finally, John sighed in frustration and switched off the laptop. It was halfway through the evening but John knew Keller had sent Rodney to his quarters to rest after releasing him from the infirmary earlier.

Within fifteen minutes, he was standing outside Rodney's quarters with a small memory-stick in hand. When Rodney opened the door, the tight, grumpy look cleared instantly as blue eyes widened in welcome and pleasure, and maybe a hint of curiosity too. His tone belied his obvious relief at being disturbed.

"So what brings you to my door in the middle of the night?"

John raised an eyebrow at the obvious exaggeration because it was only nine-thirty in the evening, and held up the memory-stick; enjoying the way Rodney's blue eyes darted about in confusion between his face, the corridor beyond and the memory-stick.

John put him out of his misery. "I'm still too strung out to sleep so I figured we could take in a movie."

"Oh! Um...Any movie in particular?"

" _The Sixth Sense_."

Rodney's eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. "I see dead people!"

John knew exactly what he meant because that phrase seemed to have seeped into society since the release of the movie, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up when he could be teasing his friend.

"Are you sure Keller should have let you go?"

Rodney frowned. "What?" And then he rolled his eyes as John lost control of the smirk he was trying to hide. He followed Rodney inside and watched as the man bustled around, throwing books and periodicals off the bed before setting up the laptop in the usual place. "I've never seen the end of this movie. I kept meaning to take a copy off the main server but there was always some disaster of another." He straightened up, grinned almost maniacally, before settling onto the bed.

John kicked off his shoes and joined him, shoulders and thighs brushing as they fidgeted until they were both comfortable with Rodney's pillows at their backs. The warmth of Rodney's body seeped beyond the physical and into the cold places left inside his mind after he thought he'd lost Rodney.

When Rodney's head slid sideways onto John's shoulder halfway through the film, John didn't have the heart to nudge him awake. Instead, he focused on the small warm puffs of air against his neck as Rodney breathed deep and slow, finally giving in to the need to touch the sleeping face. His fingers feathered through fine hair before sweeping gently down the strong cheekbones to Rodney's jaw, feeling the roughness of bristle against his finger pads. Softly, he touched the downward slant of lips slightly parted in sleep but pulled away when Rodney murmured and pushed his face even more snuggly against John's neck, one arm coming up to drape over John.

He dropped the softest kiss against Rodney's hair, feeling the tingle against his lips at the touch. Ahead of him, the movie played on, uncaring that it had lost half its audience. John smiled as he placed his hand over Rodney's, semi-linking their fingers, because Rodney still hadn't seen the end of the movie, and that gave him the perfect excuse to come back here again tomorrow evening.

And after tomorrow, there was always _Gandhi_.

END


End file.
